60. CHAPTER 60 #2
The cabin was furnished with a few necessities, only a bed, a dresser, and a table with chairs. He let her walk freely inside and gave her a change of clothes.
The bathroom didn’t have much, not even a mirror. He'd clearly prepared this place for having captives. Her insides twisted. Had he used this cabin before? For what?
Miya clenched her muscles as she changed into cotton pajamas and threw her old clothes in the trash can. They were stained with Lance’s blood.
During the car ride, she’d brainstormed how to escape from him.
No telling if her ideas would work, but she could do damage with the little she had.
Whenever fear threatened to cloud her thinking, she pictured the captain’s eyes while his men died on the ground.
No matter what happened, she had to do every last thing she could to escape.
And the captain had given her one idea back at the scene of his slaughter.
Miya unfastened her bra and slid it out from her shirt. She bit through the fabric near the wire until she could pull the metal free with her fingers, then bent it in half.
Okay. Miya took a deep breath and shoved both ends into the outlet. A shock ripped through her. She fell back, clenching her mouth shut to keep quiet.
Damn it! That hurt.
Next, she placed the garbage can beneath the outlet, piled the clothes up, and settled her bra over the wire hanging there.
Nothing happened.
Come on.
If she didn’t join the captain soon, he'd check on her. Miya poked her head out to see the captain placing sandwiches on paper plates at the dinner table.
“This may not be the dinner we'd normally enjoy,” he said. “But it will have to do.”
Gross. He had terrorized everyone he came in contact with today and still had an appetite. “Can I wash up a bit first? I feel dirty.”
“Fine. Hurry.”
A thin tendril of smoke drifted up from her contraption in the bathroom.
Yes!
She blew on it, hoping it would spark. This fire would be uncontrollable once it grew, but she'd take that over the captain any day. Either she escaped or died. He wouldn't have her.
Miya filled the tub with water, jumping when the outlet sparked.
Red flame bit through her clothes. With quiet steps, Miya returned to feed her fire, holding each garment to the flame.
“Hurry, woman.”
She winced at his voice.
The water pouring into the bathtub covered Miya’s noise as she worked. Carefully, she took down the shower rod and wrapped the curtain around it before spreading her burning clothes over it.
Flames ate across the plastic, melting holes everywhere it touched. It’d started, and she couldn’t stop it now.
Sweat hugged the nape of her neck, and she dipped her head into the tub, wetting her hair. Drawing in a breath so deep it filled her stomach, Miya left her fire to burn and joined the captain at the table.
But she could hardly remain seated. Her hands trembled.
“You don't need to be afraid,” he said. “We're only having dinner.”
Miya nodded and picked up her sandwich, certain she couldn't take a bite.
The captain straightened. “What's that smell?”
“I don't smell anything.” She clasped her chair. Prepared to move fast.
“It smells like smoke.”
“You burned a house down today. Maybe the smell is stuck in your nose.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that…”
Miya jumped from her chair and carried it with her as she sprinted for the bathroom. The surprise gave her a precious head start before he bounded around the table after her. She slammed the door in his face, shoving the chair beneath the knob.
The captain rammed into it.
“Open it!” He beat against the door, rattling everything in the room.
The fire had engulfed the clothes and the curtain rod and darkened the floor. Miya crawled into the tub and submerged herself.
He beat on the door again, his voice warped by the water. “What are you doing? You'll kill yourself!”
Hopefully not, but she'd made her choice.
She slid her pants off, wrapping them around her arm and over her hand. Then she covered her mouth with her shirt.
“Open the door, or I'll make the call. I'll send them to Lance first. Then the children back in his village.”
Miya didn't say a word. She waited in the tub while the fire spread, and the plastic melted against the rug. Heat beat away at her face.
Boots pounded on the ground outside the bathroom, and then the door shook with a thud. Wood at the hinges splintered. Another hit. The top corner of the door snapped back, opening to the captain’s snarling face.
“Crazy bitch!” He tore at the door with his bare hands, kicking holes through the bottom with his feet, and then snapped the top down entirely.
Miya jumped from the tub, soaked with water, and used the hand protected by her wet pants to lift the burning shower rod.
The captain tore his way through the door into the bathroom and lunged.
Miya swung with all her might.
The flaming rod smacked into his face. Back down against his eye.
Yes, it worked.
He fell back, a blood-curdling shriek erupting from his gaping mouth.
It was the best sound Miya had ever heard.
Melted plastic dripped down his cheek.
He wiped frantically at his face, spreading the molten material.
Heart beating hard in her chest, her gut, her face, all over her body, Miya batted him on the side of his head. Ripped back for another. The way he'd made her feel from the first day they met drove her next swing.
He grabbed the rod and dropped it with a roar. Plastic smothered his hands.
The smoke choked her lungs. She coughed, sinuses burning. Should she run now? Was he hurt enough?
He fell to the ground and plunged his hands in the toilet, bending so he could splash his face, screaming and crying inside the bowl.
Flames licked at her fingers, but she took the pain and whacked him in the back. Grimacing, she rolled the rod down him so burning plastic draped him in a sheet.
It was working. She’d done real damage. Hope pounded with her heart.
She moved for his keys, but a warning pang in her stomach stopped her. Her eyes fell to the muscles tightened against his shirt. No. Miya had to keep her distance and eliminate the advantage of his strength.
The fire erupted with a pop and consumed the ceiling. She clambered out to the living room, hauled the mattress off the frame, and shoved it against the bathroom door.
The captain knocked it down and dragged himself over it, one eye shut against the bits of plastic fusing his eyelid.
Miya ignored him and jumped on a board in the bed frame until it broke.
Fire ate up the captain’s leg, spreading over the mattress. As he rolled on the ground to put out the flames, Miya leveraged the wood beneath one of the boards in the window. She cried out as she used her full weight and strength to pry her way to freedom.
Come on! She had to get out of here!
The nails squeaked as they loosened. Pain filled her lungs from the smoke, the exertion throwing her into a coughing fit.
The fire followed after the captain. He limped for her, his legs smoking and pants burned partially off. Agony puckered his face in angry lines.
Snap.
One board broke free. No time for the other. She yanked the one and turned to face him, holding it like a bat.
He paused. Maybe taking her more seriously. Maybe planning everything he’d do to her once he caught her. The heat from the flames slickened her in sweat.
“You need me alive or you're screwed,” Miya said. “At this rate, we'll both die.”
He stepped toward her. She held her ground.
No more waiting.
Miya swung. He caught the board midair, grunting as splinters broke into his hands. She tried to pull it back, but he ripped it from her. This was bad.
The captain threw the board down and caught her around her middle. She clawed his burned eye and beat her feet against his legs. The smoke choked her. They both were coughing now, shaking with it as they fought.
Miya landed a hard kick.
He whipped around and threw her against the wall.
Pain snapped over her shoulder.
She collapsed on the ground, focused on the blood dripping from ragged cuts on his face to keep herself from surrendering to panic.
He tore the other board from the window with a growl and opened it to fresh air that poured inside.
They had to get out. The flames engulfed the door now.
Her body urged her to run for an exit, but she refused, intent on keeping the captain in danger every second she could, no matter what it meant for her.
Zayne’s words came back to her, how the captain never knew pain. Miya did. And she could fight through it. Always had.
He came for her and she kicked his shins.
“Stop! You'll die!” He dragged her by her ankle, so she smashed his fingers with the heel of her other foot. He screamed and punched the side of her knee.
Her strength gave out long enough for him to drag her over his shoulder and push her out the window. The fall stole her breath away. Woods surrounded the cabin, a hope for hiding or finding more weapons.
Miya caught handfuls of grass and dragged herself toward the darkness of the trees. Coughing too hard to catch her breath, she crawled across an unsteady world. Sharp pain stabbed through her knee with each movement.
His shadow fell over her.
No time. No time.
The captain clamped down on her arms as he coughed. The fit seized him, doubling him over, leaving him vulnerable. She kicked him in the mouth with her hurt leg. Howling and snarling, the captain climbed on top of her, holding her against the ground.